


The King's Favourite

by nightmarecait



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dean Winchester is Tortured in Hell, Hell, M/M, Things Get Ugly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28744269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmarecait/pseuds/nightmarecait
Summary: It's been six months since Dean last saw Sam. Six months since Sam killed Lucifer and took up his crown. Dean is besieged by demons carrying a message from his brother.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 36
Collections: Dean and Sam Bingo





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this one gets really dark. Detailed descriptions of torture, lots of killing and blood. So run away now if that isn't what you want. Maybe someday I'll write something that isn't a dark fic. But not today.

Dean sat in the dark, reading by flashlight. He never turned the lights on anymore, he needed to know when night fell. For some reason the demons only came at night, there was no reason why they couldn't attack him during the day. But maybe they were just dramatic. The cabin had belonged to some hunter Bobby knew. The place was basically abandoned until Dean moved in. This way no one else would get hurt when the demons showed up every night. Dean shook his head, trying not to think about that day again. He had hated Sam's plan, but had agreed to it anyway. It had involved a lot of demon blood, and getting close to Lucifer and a whole whack of demons. At first Dean had thought the plan had failed, thought the red glow in his brother's eyes meant that he was possessed. But then Lucifer had burned away in a flash of light. And Sam had turned to the crowd, arms spread wide. 

"Lucifer is dead! Bow before your new king." The smile on Sam's face had made Dean's skin crawl. Some of the demons had bowed. Some didn't. Those demons quickly died, Sam burned them out without moving a muscle. That was when Dean ran. But he had still been close enough to hear Sam's last words. "You can't run forever, Dean. Soon you will stand at my side. And kneel before my throne." Then why send wave after wave of demons to kill him? Maybe Sam had changed his mind, maybe there was nothing of his brother left. In Hell four months had turned into forty years for Dean. Six months on the surface, sixty years down below. A lifetime of Sam ruling Hell. After that thought a security light flicked on, something had tripped the perimeter. Dean picked up his gun and the demon killing knife and walked outside. The first light was shining on a devil's trap with a demon in the guise of a young woman stuck in the middle.

"Let me out of here! I don't even want to be here." Dean picked up a strategically placed bucket and tossed it at her. She screamed as she was drenched in holy water. While she was distracted Dean entered the devil's trap and stabbed her with the knife. He let the body hit the grass, he would take care of it in the morning, and refill the bucket. Another light tripped across the yard. Dean sighed and started walking. He swore under his breath when he saw that the next demon was possessing a teenager. The kid threw his hands up. 

"Hear me out, please!" He actually looked scared. Maybe he was. Over the last six months Dean had killed hundreds of demons, he hadn't left any survivors. 

"Talk fast." He barked. The demon nodded. 

"Yeah, ok. Um, We're not here to kill you. Or hurt you. He said anyone who lays a hand on you is dead." Dean didn't ask who 'he' was. "He wanted us to deliver a message." Dean reached down for another bucket. 

"I don't really want to talk to him. And I definitely don't want to talk to you." The kid reaches into his pocket and throws something on the grass. 

"It's a USB. With the message. We all have one. Just take it please, and let me go." Dean picks it up. He runs at the demon, sinking the knife deep into the kid's ribcage. 

The night passes quickly. A few more demons, but it's different than past nights. They used to fight, to taunt him. Now they beg for their lives. They want to be let go. Dean never lets them live. He retreats to the cabin and opens up his laptop, he plugs in the USB, it's a video. Dean swallows and clicks play. The video opens with Sam in a hotel room. Dean nearly starts crying. Sam looks normal, he looks human. 

"Hi, Dean. I know you don't want to talk to me. You think I'm not Sam, not your brother anymore. I don't know how to prove to you that that hasn't changed." His voice even sounds normal, except... It's too even, too controlled. The words he's saying would make the old Sam cry, make his voice shake. This Sam is completely calm. "I hope you get my message soon, I'm running out of demons to send after you. They know it's a suicide mission, and if they don't go I kill them anyway." Sam chuckles. Dean pauses the video. This is the proof, his brother is gone, dead. Something else is walking around in his body. He clicked play again. "I miss you, Dean. I'm sure you think I'm lying but I'm not. I want to see you. Just us." Dean scrambles to write down the address Sam gives. It's close to the cabin, after all Sam knows exactly where he is. "Don't tell anyone you're meeting me. I'll know if you do. And if you decide not to meet me..." Sam trails off and smiles. Once again the look makes Dean's skin crawl. The camera pans to the sleepy town that Sam's hotel is in. "This town has a population of 25,000. I included a phone number at the end of this video. If I don't get a call then that number is going to change." Dean quickly looks down at the date on the video, this particular message is two weeks old. His eyes go wide. "Every day I don't hear from you, someone will die. Until this town doesn't exist anymore. And then I'll have to find another hotel." A phone number flashes across the screen. And then the video is over. Dean pounds his fist on the table. Two weeks. Fourteen people have died. And who knows how many other people Sam has killed or had killed in the last six months. Dean dials the number, he needs to end this. 

"Hello, Dean. " Sam answers the phone. Dean almost cries. 

"Sam... I... saw the video. Did you...?" He can't finish the sentence. 

"Did I really kill fourteen people just because you didn't call me? Yes, Dean. I did. But you called, so I won't have to do that anymore." Dean shudders. How does Sam sound so wrong and so normal all at once? 

"Please don't hurt anyone else, Sammy. I'll meet you, I'll be there. Just me." 

"Good. I really don't want to hurt anyone else. I just want my brother back. I'll be alone too, even bring the knife if you want." Dean shakes when he realizes that Sam knows what he's planning. "I know you, Dean. If you can bring yourself to kill me, then do it. But give me a chance to talk to you first." The line goes dead. Dean drops his phone and lays his head on the table. He sobs until he falls asleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With all his instincts screaming not to, Dean goes to meet Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of thinking that there won't be any actual rape, but there will be some non con elements. And of course the torture. But that doesn't happen yet. So you still have time to flee if some how the first chapter didn't scare you.

Chapter 2

Dean is terrified. He should have told someone this was happening. But Sam would know, somehow he would know. So Dean came alone. With the knife and with the colt. But he still wasn't sure he could make himself do it. He forced himself to watch the video again, as proof. That Sam was gone, had to be stopped, wasn't his brother anymore. The address lead Dean to a small diner in the town closest to the cabin. There were only two cars in the parking lot, only one waitress and he assumed one cook. Sam had promised to come alone, but could he be trusted? Dean could see Sam through the window, sitting at a booth in the diner, nursing a cup of coffee and a sad looking salad. Dean smirked, maybe there was something of his brother left. Dean entered the diner and silently sat down across from Sam. They were the only customers in the place. The waitress walked over to take his order. 

"Bacon and eggs. Black coffee, eggs looking at me." The waitress walks away. Dean looks at Sam. At the moment his brother's eyes are hazel. He looks like he always did, layers, Carhart jacket, messy hair. Dean closes his eyes for a second, remembering Sam's callous voice in the video. Sam smiles, warm and friendly. 

"I'm really glad you made it, Dean. I'm sorry about the demons and the video. But I had to make sure you would come." Dean lets out a breath and forces himself to inhale. 

"Sammy. If you really killed people." Dean whispers. His bacon and eggs arrive. For once in his life, he's not hungry. Sam leans forward, putting on his puppy dog eyes. 

"Come on, Dean. My life, this job. It's not pretty, and I'm still getting used to it. But I really do miss you." Dean slams his hand down on the table. The waitress barely looks up. 

"This job? Sam you're ruling Hell!" Sam leans back and lifts his hand. Dean almost jumps as the waitress slumps to the counter, eyes closed. 

"Relax, she's just sleeping. Now we can speak freely." Sam explained. Still smiling. "I'm not as bad as you think I am, Dean. I just realized where I belong." Dean shook his head. 

"In Hell, Sam? And we were on the way to the apocalypse, are you in charge of that too?" Dean was shaking. He had to make up his mind fast. 

"Armageddon is cancelled. I have no interest in destroying the world. And if Michael ever shows up, I'll kill him too. Hopefully with your help." This was too much for Dean. He looked at Sam again, really looked. Sam's usual outfit now looked more like a costume. His hair wasn't messy, it was carefully styled to look messy. His little brother was sitting across from him dressed up to look normal, to look human. But when Dean really looked Sam stopped being his brother and became some kind of ageless demi god, practically glowing with power. 

"I don't think I can do that, Sam. You wanted to know how you can convince me you're still you? Give it up. Give up Hell and the throne and the powers and just be my brother again." Sam stared deep into Dean's eyes. Dean shuddered when Sam's eyes flashed red. 

"I'm sorry, Dean. I won't do that. I've found my place and no one is going to take it from me, not even you." Dean nodded. He reached into his pocket and raised the colt. Sam smiled. 

"The colt. You really mean it then. You're going to kill me." Dean points the gun at his brother with tears in his eyes. 

"I have no choice. You're not Sam. You're not my Sam." Sam's eyes turn red. 

"Give me the gun, Dean." His voices echoes with power. Dean's eyes widen as against his will he hands the colt to Sam. "Good. I really hoped this would be different. That you would want me back. But I knew you wouldn't. You want your version of me, your Sam." Sam got up from the table, and walked around to Dean's side. While Dean struggled, realizing that he couldn't move. "I don't want to hurt you. But I think I have to. In the end we'll both have what we want, us together. Sleep." Dean crumples, unconscious. Sam wraps his brother in his arms and the diner disappears around them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Sam has Dean right where he wants him. And it won't end well for Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we are getting close to the bad stuff here. I'd duck out now, I'm not sure where exactly I'm gonna put it.

Chapter 3

Dean woke up with a bad headache. It only got worse when he tried to move, a sharp pain in his shoulder told him his hands were cuffed behind him. He tried to stand up without any luck. He was on his knees and his legs were bound. He shook his head to dislodge the cobwebs and looked around. The room was dark, lit torches lining the walls. The room was largely empty except for the chair in front of him; to call it a chair felt wrong, it was a throne. Huge sounding doors opened behind Dean as he struggled to look. Two grunts took up position on either side of him. He didn't have to see their eyes to know they were demons. A third set of footsteps continued past Dean to the throne. Dean grit his teeth, it was Sam. Sam turned around and sat on the throne. He was no longer dressed up as his former self. He looked like a cross between a young god and a demonic college professor. He was wearing black slacks and a charcoal blazer over a blood red shirt. A gold circlet on his head completed the look. Sam smile at Dean, there was no warmth in it. 

"Welcome to my kingdom, Dean. I'd love to give you a tour, but that will have to wait." Sam leaned forward on his throne. Dean could see now how Sam had changed. His face seemed to glow, he looked older than his 26 years, but also impossibly young. Eternally young, and impossibly old. "There's so much work to be done with you, Dean. But when it's all over you'll be my brother again and I'll be yours." Dean tried to pull away, but once again found himself unable to move as Sam leaned in and kissed him. Dean didn't kiss back. Sam pulled back, looking at Dean with red eyes. "I really missed you, I tried to forget you, Dean. I really did, to just embrace this life. But I can't get you out of my head. I need you Dean, and I think you need me. Even if you don't know it yet." Dean could move again, at least a little. He pulled on his chains, making no progress. 

"You son of a bitch! Let me go! You're not Sam, you're not him. You're not my brother!" Sam chuckled.

"Then what am I? I'm not Lucifer, you saw him die. And I know you, Dean. I know how close we are, maybe too close. I know how hard you try to not think about when we were kids. When we'd share the bed, even if we didn't have to. How we did it one last time before I left for Stanford. How you needed me close." There's rage in Dean's eyes. How dare Sam use those memories against him. 

"Why am I here? So you can gloat? So you can toss me the pit and forget about me?" Dean gasps as he's tossed against the wall, cold rage in Sam's eyes. 

"No, Dean. You are here for a purpose and you are too stupid to see it." Sam rises from his throne. "There are still positions that need to be filled. And you, big brother received some unique training not all that long ago." Dean's eyes go wide in terror. 

"No, Sam. You can't be serious. I'm not... that." Another cold smile. 

"I'll admit you did an excellent job burying it. But I know you remember your time down here. I can see the stain on your soul." Sam reached out, taking Dean's face in his hand. "It's just the beginning, when you're complete your soul will be so beautiful." Sam pressed another kiss to Dean's lips. "I wish I didn't have to do this. But it's the only way." Sam stepped back from Dean and turned to the goons. "Take him to the dungeons. And put him in Belphagar's section." The goons pick Dean up as he screams and kicks. 

"No, Sam! You can't do this! Anything, anything but that!" Sam doesn't answer, sitting back in his throne. Dean struggles as he his dragged deeper into Hell. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is locked in Hell about to endure worse torture than the last time he was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we go ladies, gentlemen and gentlethem. It's torture time. Please don't get mad at me, if you choose to read this you know what's coming. It's gonna be detailed and nasty.

Chapter 4

Dean is strapped to a rack, lying spread eagle. He's not alone there are other tortured souls here, screaming, crying. Some don't make any noise at all. A demon that looks like a drunk college kid wearing wide frame sunglasses walks up to Dean, pulling with him a cart of supplies, tools, knives. 

"Hey, Dean Winchester! Cool to see you, man. Well, I guess it's not cool for you. I'm Belphegor. I'll be torturing you today." Dean pulls on his chains, he knows he can't get away but he has to try. "You know I'm a big fan. When you were down here before. Man, what you did to those people wasn't torture, it was art." Dean struggles again.

"Let me go. Demons always want something right? I can help." Belphegor laughs.

"Man, I already have what I want. A big collection of knives and a bigger collection of people to use them on." He returned to sharpening the knives. "He gave you to me cause I'm the best at what I do. He wants you broken. He actually said that, break him. He wants you to pick up the knife. But you're a tough guy, so I got to break you." Dean screamed as the first knife cut into his chest. Slicing his pectoral muscle open. Belphegor continued to talk, prattling on about the minutiae of Hell. The knife slicing into Dean's stomach, releasing his own stomach acid to burn his flesh. Dean screamed again, it didn't sound human this time. Belphegor pulled out all of his tricks for Dean. Digging his fingers into the acid seared flesh to make Dean scream so hard the sound stopped. For this one Belphegor didn't need a knife, he grasped Dean's left eye with his finger tips and twisted, pulling gently until the eye gave free. Another scream as Dean watched his own eye leave his head. The blood ran freely dripping into Dean's open mouth. It was too much, Dean's vision went black long before Belphegor plucked his other eye. At some point the screaming stopped, because Belphegor had severed Dean's vocal cords. Dean could still feel everything. Feel his tongue cut out of his mouth, feel his toes cut off. Belphegor takes everything but Dean's ears, still talking the whole time. "The best part about Hell is that you can't die here. I mean, you'd definitely be dead by now, if you could die. But you can't, so you get to feel all of it." Dean can't see or scream but he can feel the knives buried in his gut, hear the slicing, feels when his intestines are pulled out. Always on the edge of blacking out, but never unaware of what's happening to him. 

Dean gasps as his sight returns. His eyes are back, his body is whole. He can see Belphegor cleaning his knives. "Welcome back. That's my other favourite thing. It all resets at the end of the day, so I get to do it all again tomorrow." Tears run down Dean's cheeks. He remembers. Every night the wounds would heal and Alistair would ask Dean if he was ready to get up. And Dean would say no every night, until the night he didn't. "So, how long are you gonna hold out? This isn't like last time, this only ends one way. I'll give you all night to think about it." Belphegor packs up his knives and walks away. Dean sobs as he realizes the one thing that didn't go away, the blood. His wounds are healed but he is still drenched in his own blood.

"Sam!" Dean yells out into the void. There's no answer but Dean knows Sam can hear him. He can probably hear everything. Dean pulls weakly on his chains. How long will he hold out? It happened last time, he gave in. It took a long time, forty fucking years. Dean looks down at himself, seeing a blood soaked shirt and not the ruined mess of flesh and blood and organs that he just was. Can he do this for forty years? Again? 

Days pass. Dean doesn't know how many. It's so hard to keep track, all the pain makes his mind go numb, makes his brain stop working. Sometimes he can barely remember his own name. But eventually he remembers. He is Dean Winchester and he is here because his brother became a monster, a demon. His own brother put him here, to bleed and die over and over. Belphegor is here, it must be a new day. He's sharpening his knives and blabbing about something, Dean doesn't pay attention anymore, he doesn't have the capacity. Dean looks up weakly. 

"How long?" He rasps. Belphegor shrugs. 

"Not as long as your last stay. Why you ready to get up?" Dean doesn't answer, laying his head back on the rack. The first knife makes a shallow cut on Dean's leg, dangerously close to his balls. Dean can feel the pain, but it feels different today. As the knife stabs deep into his abdomen he figures it out. The pain isn't making him weak anymore. It's making him strong, angry. Dean surges forward, his chains breaking as if the rules have changed. He grabs the knife and it feels right in his hand. Belphegor steps back quickly. 

"Ok, man. I guess we're done here. You get the rest of the day and start working tomorrow." Dean climbs off of the rack, not letting go of the knife. 

"Good job, Dean. I was hoping it wouldn't take long." Sam says as he appears next to Dean. This time Dean doesn't try to pull away as Sam kisses him, he even kisses back. "Let me take you to your new home." Sam takes his brother's hand and leads him through the corridors of Hell. Dean can hear the screaming but can no longer bring himself to care. All he can really feel is the gentle grip of Sam's hand on his own. Sam takes Dean to what looks like a motel room, a normal, kind of seedy motel room. "Hell feeds off of thoughts. Right now it looks like this because this is what you're used to. It'll change as you change, and feed it new ideas. Dean looks around the room. Two things make it stand out from a normal motel room, one is the closet full of worn blue jeans and flannel shirts. The other is the extensive weapons display on one wall. Dean is drawn to it immediately. He recognizes some of the weapons, ruby's knife. His favourite guns, an angel blade. And others he's only read about. A full compliment of Japanese blades all the way from tanto to naganaki. Serrated knives, curved blades, a stunning jambiya, next to wide bellied kukri. "Every weapon you could ever want is here, or will be here if you think of it later." Sam hugs Dean from behind. "You'll have everything you want, baby." Another kiss. It feels electric to Dean. It's like Sam is the only thing he can feel. "When you're ready come visit me, you'll know the way." One last hug and Sam vanishes. Dean looks around the room. This is home now, he made the choice. He rests his new knife on the rack, spying the perfect place for it. He strips out of his bloody clothes and steps into the shower. The water is hot enough to burn but Dean barely feels it. There, his first real indication that he isn't human anymore, not completely. Dean finds he doesn't care that much. The torture is over, his brother loves him again. So what if he has to cut some people open every day? In fact, that sounds kind of fun. Dean rummages through the closet and finds a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a worn t shirt. He threw them on and turned to look at the sagging motel bed. Dean wished he had something comfier to sleep on. As he thought it the bed transformed into a brand new looking bed, straight from a furniture store. Dean smiled. He could get used to this. 

The next morning, or whatever passes for morning in a place with no sun, Dean got up and got dressed. Outside his room was a cart, there were a few basic knives and tools on the cart. There was also a note, telling him where to go for work. Dean smiled and went back inside the room. He picked up the knife he had acquired yesterday, he also picked up the tanto, eager to try it out. He placed both on the cart and began walking to the dungeons. The screams did effect him this time, they made him smile. If he was just a tiny bit more human he would wonder how he had fallen so far so quickly. As it was he just kept walking to his station. He stopped at a rack that contained a young woman. She was crying, must be new. Dean looked down at her and smiled. 

"I guess you're my first patient." The girl screams at the sight of him. Dean wonders what she's seeing. He looks down at himself, hands still human, legs still human. At least for now. He ignores her screaming and picks up a scalpel. He leaves shallow cut around the lines of her chest. She weeps. Next he digs the scalpel in deep, stabbing the most sensitive part of her breast, repeating it on the other side. He sets the scalpel down and picks up a pair of pliers. Time to try a classic. The woman shrieks as Dean pulls one finger nail out, followed by another. He went slow, waiting for the screams to subside before taking the next nail. When he was down with her fingers he moved on to her toes. When that was done he lowered his head to the rack, licking the blood off her fingers. It tasted so good. Dean glanced at the tanto sitting on the cart. Time to cut this session short. He could take her eyes like Belphegor took his, but he wanted her to see this part. He picked up the tanto. "You know I always liked samurai movies, even the old ones with subtitles. And normally, a samurai would do this to himself, when he failed. But.." He paused with a smile. "I don't see any samurai around here." Dean raises the blade above his head and plunges it into the woman's stomach. She screams as loud as any human can, he brings the blade across her stomach in two shift motions, watching her guts spill out with bright eyes. He pulled the blade out and began to clean it as she sobbed, unable to comprehend the level of damage done to her body. Soon enough she gasped in relief as her guts returned to their rightful place and the fissure in her abdomen healed. "That was fun, wasn't it?" Dean smirked. He was good at this. "I'll be back, maybe tomorrow, maybe you get someone else tomorrow." He softly caresses her cheek, she sobs. He grabbed the handle of the cart and walked to the next rack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously Belphegor isn't Jack in this. But he still definitely has the frat boy attitude and the college kid look. And I kept the sunglasses cause they're a look


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean adjusts to his new life quickly, happy to be with Sam again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been so much fun to write. It might end here, but I might also do one more. This is a while after the last chapter. Probably a few Hell years later.

Chapter 5

Dean has the day off. You don't get many of those in Hell, especially when you're the best at what you do. Dean does more than just torture, he makes the schedules, and makes suggestions on how to break them. Dean mostly gets the tough cases now, the unbreakable. But no one is unbreakable under his knife. His room no longer resembles a seedy motel, it's dark, decorated mostly in black and bare metal. You could believe that a demon lives here. Dean gets out of bed and goes to the mirror. He can see his outer self, looking so much like he did when he was human, but he can also see below the surface. Demons are human souls that have changed, been corrupted. Under the surface Dean looks almost grotesque, parts of his body replaced with shining steel. On the surface his green eyes had turned silver rather than solid black. He was unique. A demon made of steel, a weapon. The closet is no longer full of flannel shirts. It's a sea of black and leather jackets. Each jacket is slightly different, black with silver accents and patterns. He dresses quickly, pulling the jacket over a charcoal gray t shirt. Dean found himself shaking a little. It wasn't like he hadn't seen Sam, but that had always been in a work capacity, making reports and requests, always very professional. Well, except for the time an upstart demon decided to say Dean only had his position because he was Sam's brother. Sam had been more than willing to let Dean demonstrate his skills. Dean is excited to see Sam, to be with him alone, just the two of them. He stepped out of his room and walked across the dungeons. The screams made him smile, he had done a good job, whipped this place into shape. It was his dungeon, just like Hell was Sam's kingdom. Demons stepped out of his way as he walked, they weren't stupid. They were well aware of what happened to demons that messed with the king or his brother. If they were lucky Sam just killed them with a turn of his head. If they were unlucky he would burn them alive, if they really messed up they got Dean and his knives; Sam would always watch, even came down to watch souls being tortured some times. But only if Dean was holding the knife. Dean left the dungeons and made his way to a hall that rarely saw traffic. Very few demons ever came anywhere near Sam's private quarters. Dean hadn't been here yet, he'd been so busy. They both had, but now they could finally celebrate. Dean knocked on the heavy oak door, it swung open and Sam smiled at him. 

"Finally, I've been waiting for this, Dean." Sam pulled Dean into a kiss, holding his brother close. Dean gasped, he hardly felt anything anymore, just satisfaction from a good torture session. But this was amazing, this was like being alive again. Dean pulled away, just for a second to get a good look at Sam. He had caught glimpses of Sam's true form, but this was the first good look he'd gotten. Sam is gorgeous, he has long black horns and veins of lava crawling over his body. His touch is an inferno to Dean's cold skin. Dean falls back into Sam's arms, kissing and touching. Pulling at Sam's clothes. Sam chuckles. "Mmm you're so eager. Not that I can blame you. I've been thinking about this for so long." Sam steps back and removes his clothes, slowly, thoughtfully. Dean licks his lips at the sight. Dean pulled off his jacket and shirt, tossing them aside. The last thing Sam took off was the golden circlet, resting it on a black wood desk. Before Dean could undo his pants Sam stepped forward and took the belt in his hands. Undoing it, sliding the black jeans down Dean's legs. Dean smiled and kneeled down, looking up at his brother.

"You said one day I would kneel." Sam smiled back, running his fingers through Dean's hair. 

"Mmm, I did. I have dreamed of this. I love you so much, Dean." Dean doesn't reply but leans forward and licks Sam's cock all the way from base to tip. Sam let out a soft moan. His fingers tangle in Dean's hair, pulling him closer, shoving him down of Sam's cock. Dean takes Sam's cock deep in his throat. He would be choking if he was human, instead he takes it deeper, moaning around it. Moaning, Sam reaches down and roughly pulls Dean up to his feet, kissing him hard. Reaching one hand out Sam caught a small knife, using his powers to pick it up. "Mmm, shall I taste you?" Dean nods eagerly. Sam doesn't need to drink demon blood anymore, he's fully in control of his powers. But sometimes he just wants a taste. Especially from Dean. Sam pushes Dean up against the wall and brings the knife to his neck. Sam is almost gentle as he slices into the skin. Dean gasps, this is the first pain he's felt since he rose off the rack, and it feels so good. Sam brings his lips to the wound and starts to drink. Dean moans at the sensation. It's Sam, the only one who can make him feel anything, because only the hottest fire can melt steel. Dean can feel his cock hardening, growing until it rubs against Sam's. They both moan and Sam growls low in his throat. Sam licks the cut clean before it heals. He switches to the other side and bites down on Dean's neck, hard. Dean cries out, practically screaming. It's too much, he could cum just from this. Sam pushes Dean harder into the wall, covering Dean's body with his own, their cocks pressed together. 

"Sam," Dean gasped. "Please fuck me." Sam purrs in Dean's ear.

"Ask again. Beg your king to fuck you." Dean shudders as Sam grips his cock tightly. 

"Please, my king. Fuck me, please." Dean begs. Sam chuckles and kisses him. 

"Then get on the bed." Sam lets him up and Dean lays down on Sam's bed. The whole room is dark, decorated with black and shades of red. Dean smiles up at his brother, and licks his lips. Sam is a dark vision of beauty. Sam got on the bed slowly, hovering over Dean. He moves down, lowering his head to Dean's ass. Dean gasps as Sam's tongue flicks out, dragging around his hole. 

"How are you so good at that?" Dean moaned as Sam worked. Darting his tongue in and out of Dean's hole. This was what Sam had wanted all along, even before he became king. He would move mountains, would burn the world alive to have Dean in his bed like this. Sam got Dean's hole good and wet, then he moved up again, locking Dean in a kiss, his cock lined up perfectly with Dean's hole. Sam growled as he thrust sharply into Dean, spearing him with his cock. Dean gasped, his silver eyes going wide. "Fuck, Sam! That feels so fucking good." Dean leaned up to kiss Sam. So desperate to be fucked and kissed and touched. After everything all Dean wanted was Sam, to be owned by Sam, his king. Sam started fucking Dean harder, faster. Equally desperate to be inside his brother, his lover, his greatest creation. Sam shoves in as deep as he can, buried in Dean as far as he can go. This feels so good, so right. Dean groans louder, pulling himself up closer to feel Sam's heat. "I love you, Sam. I belong here with you." Sam moans and kisses Dean. He's close already, they both are. Sam wraps his hand around Dean's cock and start stroking in time with his thrusts. "Sam! I'm gonna cum!" Dean barely gets the words out before he does. Groaning loudly as he sprays on both their stomachs. "God, Sam. No one's ever made me cum like that." Sam answers with a grunt as he speeds up, a human would be crying, begging and pleading for him to stop, Dean just moans and lays back on the bed. Sam growls as he fucks Dean like a doll, hard and fast and with no concern for his brother. Dean doesn't mind, he's cum once and he loves when Sam gets rough. Sam roars as he cums in Dean, spilling out on the bed. His breathing is heavy as he pulls out and picks Dean up for a kiss. 

"You are mine and I am never letting you go." He whispers to Dean. Dean moans and kisses back. 

"Mmm I need to clean up." They both chuckle as they walk to the shower. They may be demons in Hell, but this feels like Heaven. 


End file.
